


Make You Sweat

by whimsical_ramblings



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Biting, Fever Dreams, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2068590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsical_ramblings/pseuds/whimsical_ramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ocelot comes down with a fever while accompanying Snake on a mission to Hanoi to rescue EVA, and as he drifts in and out of feverish dreams all he can seem to think about is how damn good Snake looks without a shirt on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make You Sweat

**Author's Note:**

> Written for tanalilt, who wanted to see feverish!Ocelot and porn. Naturally I stepped up to deliver.

There was nothing Ocelot could have done to prepare for the weather in Hanoi. In his 27 years on earth he’d traveled to different countries all over the world, each with their own unique climate, from tundras to rainforests to mountains and everything in between. But he had never encountered anything like the heat in Hanoi.

He and Snake had arrived in Vietnam near the end of May, just as one of Hanoi’s two seasons, summer, had started. The temperature sat at an oppressive 29 °C, and the atmosphere was saturated with humidity, his lungs breathing in air so wet that he thought he might drown. Snake, as always, seemed completely unaffected. His upper chest shone with a thin sheen of sweat but otherwise he appeared unperturbed by the weather, hiking uphill with 32 kilos of equipment on his back with relative ease. Their packs were bogged down by water, an essential resource in hot climates like this, but the added weight was more than enough to give Ocelot some trouble, and he found himself struggling to keep up.

Snake shot him a cheeky look over his shoulder as Ocelot nearly tripped over an exposed root again, righting himself just before his knees hit the ground.

“Think you can keep up?” he asked, sounding only slightly out of breath from their hike up the mountainside.

Ocelot grimaced as he shifted the weight of the pack he was carrying into a more comfortable position, his shoulders aching as the straps dug into his skin. His clothes clung to him like a wetsuit, the fabric soaked through with sweat, his face and neck and arms prickling with sunburn as the sun’s rays leaked through the trees. Compared to Snake he must have looked like a half drowned cat, drenched and irritated with a murderous glint in his eyes. Snake seemed to find this amusing, which only pissed Ocelot off more.

“M’fine” he ground out through gritted teeth, pushing himself further up the incline. Sweat poured down his face, the salt stinging his eyes, and his foot caught another tree root. This time his knee did hit the ground, his hands flying out in front of him to catch himself before he fell. Snake watched from further up, one eyebrow raised slightly.

“You sure about that?”

Ocelot muttered some curses under his breath as he pulled himself to his feet, refusing to answer the question.

“Alright,” Snake said, turning around to continue up the mountain. “Just remember that you’re the one who begged to come along.”

He could hear Snake’s boots crunching against the ground, and anger bubbled in the pit of Ocelot’s stomach as he pushed himself up. He dug his feet in and forced himself to march faster, until his chest heaved and ached and his head spun. He was treating him like a child again, scolding him as though he were still a hot-headed 20 year old. The thought made Ocelot fume even more, and he pushed himself harder. He could almost hear Snake’s voice in his head saying _If you wouldn’t act like a child you wouldn’t be treated like one_ , and he brushed the thought aside. It was true that he’d asked to come along with him on his mission to rescue EVA, so determined in fact that he’d practically begged. In the seven years since they'd met, something inside him was still desperate to prove himself, and the thought of Snake going off to rescue EVA alone unsettled him for some reason. Maybe it was the child in him, as Snake called it, that didn’t want EVA to get the wrong idea when Snake showed up, didn’t want her to think that he’d done this out of anything other than the mutual benefits they’d both receive if she joined The Patriots alongside him. This was about business, nothing else, and Ocelot’s presence would prove that. He knew it wouldn’t take much for EVA to liken herself to some sort of damsel locked away in a tower, and Snake to her knight in shining armor, ready to rescue her. That woman had too many ideas in her head about what exactly she and Snake were, and maybe it was childish, but Ocelot didn’t like that. It was so easy for her to get Snake’s attention, so easy for her to get him to come running whenever she wanted. He’d had to fight tooth and nail just to get Snake to consider joining The Patriots with him, but EVA never needed to try as hard to get Snake to listen, to get his respect and even his trust. Ocelot wondered just how long he’d have to work to prove to Snake that he was worthy of the same treatment.  

By the time he caught up with Snake, Ocelot had completely winded himself, so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even realized just how hard he’d been pushing himself. The pack he was carrying felt twice as heavy as it had before, and his chest ached, lungs struggling to inflate. The heat began to overwhelm him, and before he knew it, the world blurred and spun and he found himself falling.

“Shit,” he heard Snake curse, a pair of arms catching him and easing him to the ground. He was leaned against a tree, his neck tilting back, and a hand found the back of his head to draw it up, forcing the plastic lip of a canteen into his mouth. Cool water poured down his aching throat and spilled down the front of his neck, and he gasped when the canteen was removed. Finally able to draw in air, he blinked up at Snake’s stern face hovering above his.

“Are you an idiot?” he scolded him. “I’ll call for a pickup if you’re gonna be a danger to yourself. Keep yourself hydrated, and stop pushing yourself so damn hard.”

Ocelot heard his words, knew that he was right, that he’d been stupid, but all of his attention was focused on Snake’s torso as he loomed over him, the material of his shirt damp with sweat, sticking to the curves and dips of his muscles.

  
When he didn’t answer, Snake sighed and helped pull him to his feet, his hands firm on Ocelot’s shoulders to make sure he wouldn’t topple over again. Ocelot shrugged them off and continued up the trail, determined to brush off the momentary weakness, but after a few hours of hiking towards the sunset, his foot caught something in the ground again, and this time when he fell, he didn’t get back up.

***

Ocelot’s dreams were muddled, the images scattered and blurred as he drifted in and out of consciousness, and after a while it became hard to tell what was a dream and what wasn’t. He felt hands pulling at his shirt, ripping his clothes away from him, calloused fingers running down his chest and someone’s hot breath caressing the side of his neck.. At one point he could clearly see Snake’s face, his lips only inches from his own, and when he imagined hard enough he could feel their lips pressing together, tongues dipping into each others mouth, Snake’s cock hard against his own as their hips rolled together. He couldn’t tell if the heat he felt surging through his body was coming from the inside or out, but it left him dizzy, pliant, and he moaned out Snake’s name, Snake’s real name, even though he knew how much he hated it.

“John…”

His voice sounded weak to his own ears, and when he opened his eyes this time he could see his surroundings with some small level of lucidity, rather than the garbled glimpses of reality he’d been getting before. Night had fallen on the forest, the sky a dark purple through the canopy of trees, and his eyes drifted to the side to see Snake sitting beside him, his arm resting on a bent knee. He could hear the crackle of a fire somewhere near him, and the light from the flames danced across Snake’s face. He extended a hand towards him, and for a moment Ocelot thought he might caress the side of his face, but instead he laid the back of his hand against Ocelot’s forehead, his mouth drawn tight with worry.

“You’re still too hot,” he mused, and Ocelot considering making a joke, but for some reason he couldn’t get his mouth to work.

Snake soaked a piece of cloth in some of the water from his canteen, and ran it across Ocelot’s bare chest.

So that part wasn’t a dream, he thought absently, although he realized now that Snake hadn’t been tearing off his clothes for the reasons he’d imagined.The cool temperature of the cloth contrasted sharply with his warm skin, and he shivered as water dripped down his chest and sides.  

“And you’re also a fucking idiot,” Snake said, calling him such for the second time today.

He wrung the cloth out and placed it against his forehead while Ocelot continued to shiver, droplets of water following the line of his jaw, his hairline, the shell of his ear. He felt dizzy, like he was both freezing and on fire all at once, and he realized with a groan that the memory of his earlier dreams had made him painfully hard.

“I told you not to push yourself too hard and you did it anyway. We’ll lose the whole night and half the damn day at this rate.”

Ocelot wondered why Snake didn’t sound as angry as his words suggested he was. Maybe he was getting used to all the shit Ocelot’s pride put him through. Or maybe Ocelot was more out of it than he realized. Although the idea of Snake fussing over him like some kind of worried mother was almost laughable.

Sighing, Snake took a moment to pull his sweat-soaked shirt off himself, revealing the expanse of his chest and back. His skin was a shade darker than its normal hue, tanned by the overwhelming heat of the sun, a sharp contrast to Ocelot’s own burnt, blotchy-red skin. Ocelot felt his cock throb in his pants again when Snake leaned over to reach for something, the muscles of his back rolling under his skin, and when Snake straightened back up he slipped a hand beneath Ocelot’s head, lifting it up and bringing the canteen he’d grabbed up to his mouth. Ocelot drank greedily, suddenly alarmingly aware of how thirsty he was, and he gasped when Snake pulled it away.

“Slower,” Snake told him softly, “unless you want it to come back up again.”

He brought it up to Ocelot’s lips once more, and he drank slowly this time. When he was finished, Snake placed him flat on the ground again, and moved to pull away when a hand wrapped itself around his wrist. He turned around to find Ocelot looking up at him with through a feverish haze, his shaking hand gripping him as tight as he could.

“Please,” he managed to say, unable to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Snake blinked at him, looking unsure, and Ocelot squirmed under his gaze. He opened his mouth to speak again but all he could do was groan, half from the fever that felt like it was burning him up inside, and half from the desperate memory of his earlier dreams, of Snake’s hands trailing down his sides, slipping beneath the waistband of his pants, his tongue licking the sweat from his neck.

“What’re you…?” Snake started to ask, but trailed off as his eyes met the bulge in Ocelot’s pants.

“No,” he said firmly when he realized what Ocelot was asking for.

Ocelot groaned again, struggling to pull himself up. Snake leaned over him and forced him back to the ground, and Ocelot took the opportunity to grab Snake’s other wrist, pulling him over to straddle his hips with the little strength he had left. He arched his back, hips rutting against Snake’s own.

Snake cursed, looking down at Ocelot’s flushed face, the sweat pouring down his chest, his twitching muscles as he struggled to hold Snake in place, and he cursed again. Without thinking, he leaned down to catch the side of Ocelot’s neck, placing open-mouthed kisses against his throat before sucking a bruise into the skin. Ocelot’s mouth fell open, his fingers losing their grip on Snake’s wrists to fall to his sides, and he craned his neck to give Snake better access. Snake licked and sucked his way down Ocelot’s throat, hands fumbling with the buttons on his pants, and once he managed to undo them he slipped them free of Ocelot’s legs, pulling his underwear off with them. Ocelot was too weak to do the same for Snake, so Snake paused to undo his own pants, slipping his half-hard cock free from his underwear. He placed himself between Ocelot’s legs and began to move against him, their cocks rubbing together.

Ocelot groaned at the feeling, his spine arching once again, feet struggling for purchase against the ground. Dirt stuck to the sweaty skin on his legs, and he let himself be moved, bonelessly, as Snake rutted against him, back scraping against the dirt and sticks on the forest floor.

  
Snake hiked one of Ocelot’s legs up further and hunched over to bite the skin of Ocelot’s shoulder. Ocelot cried out as his teeth broke the skin, the sound both strangled and weak, and he fisted the dirt beneath him. If he’d felt on fire before that feeling had only intensified now, and his chest heaved as his cock throbbed, lungs struggling for air, Snake’s strong hips moving against his. It didn’t take long for him to come, pleasured cries catching in his throat as he brought a hand up to dig into Snake’s bicep with his nails, raking them down his arm. This only seemed to spur Snake on further, and he bit down harder, rutting against him faster, slipping his arms beneath Ocelot’s back to pull his limp, spent body closer. He freed one of his hands to grab Ocelot’s wrist and bring it to his cock, wrapping Ocelot’s pliant fingers around himself. He was too weak to hold the grip alone, so Snake kept his larger hand wrapped around Ocelot’s, guiding his hand as he forced him to stroke his cock. Ocelot looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, his grip on consciousness waning, the feeling of Snake’s hard cock beneath his hand spurring him to stay awake, to watch him come. He didn’t need to wait long, because it only took a few more thrusts of his hips for Snake to tip over the edge, his hand tightening around Ocelot’s own, and before Snake could even collapse on top of him, sweaty and out of breath, Ocelot passed out, drifting off into another fevered sleep.


End file.
